


errand day

by lobotomycastiel



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26112109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lobotomycastiel/pseuds/lobotomycastiel
Summary: “Morning, sleepyhead. You ready for errand day?”
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 6
Kudos: 74
Collections: 2020 Cap/Iron Man Tiny Reverse Bang





	errand day

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [good morning, beloved. [FANART]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24875695) by [wingheads](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingheads/pseuds/wingheads). 



> Thank you to aisu_hawk and fiftyshadesofstony for their beta work, to wingheads on AO3 for creating such amazing art, and to the Cap-IM TRB mods for hosting this event!

Tony wakes up to Steve peppering his neck with soft kisses. 

“Good morning to you too, beloved,” he says, smiling as he turns to his husband, whose hair is still damp from his post-workout shower. He’s wearing a bright blue tank top and khakis, because Tony married someone who appreciates the art of being cheesy. 

“Morning, sleepyhead. You ready for errand day?” 

Tony stretches and yawns. Ugh. Errands. At least Steve will be there with him. Last time he had a day like this, Steve was off in Chile doing who-knows-what.

“As ready as I’ll ever be. Gimme… ten minutes and I’ll be downstairs.” He hops out of bed, gives Steve a quick kiss, and dashes into their en suite. Ten minutes is less than a sixth of the time his normal beauty regime requires, but for Steve, he’ll make it work. 

***

Tony takes the elevator down to the common floor, adjusting his dress shirt and attempting to smooth out any wrinkles. He needs to remind Steve to iron their laundry tonight, but that’ll come later. 

When he walks into the kitchen, the rest of the team is already there, eating breakfast. Clint and Natasha have their protein shakes, Bruce has his oatmeal and black tea, and Thor and Steve are devouring massive stacks of pancakes and bacon. 

Tony steals a piece of bacon off of Steve’s plate, making the other man squawk indignantly, before grabbing his mug out of the cabinet and filling it with coffee. 

“Anthony Edward Stark-Rogers, where are your manners?” Steve looks annoyed, but Tony’s been around him enough to know that he’s not actually mad. This is further confirmed by Steve pulling out a still-warm plate of food from the oven and setting it in front of Tony’s seat, which is right next to him. 

“You say that like you didn’t know what you signed up for when you married me,” Tony grins at his husband and takes a sip of his coffee before sitting down and leaning into Steve’s space. Steve’s pulled out the newspaper and flipped right to the daily crossword (for himself) and the daily sudoku (for Tony). 

It hits him, right then and there, that they’re the perfect picture of a boring married couple, and Tony wouldn’t trade it for anything.

He finishes his sudoku puzzle in less than five minutes, because it’s a Tuesday and the puzzles on Tuesdays are always easier than the ones on later days of the week, so he helps Steve with the crossword.

“Fifteen-across is adrenaline.” 

“Oh shit, how did I not notice that?” 

“I mean, ‘adrenaline junkie’ is a very 90s phrase.” 

Steve snorts, and finishes the last of his breakfast. Tony does the same, and they help each other tidy up the kitchen, with Steve handwashing the pans and Tony loading the dishwasher. 

“Bye guys, we’ll be back in a few hours!” Steve calls out to the group. There are various sounds of assent from the living room, and Clint gives them a thumbs-up, so the two of them take the elevator down to the garage.

***

“Where to first?” Steve asks as they climb into the car. 

“Well, we need a new coffee table because _someone_ broke it during game night.” 

“Thor was _cheating_ , it’s not my fault--” Tony’s heard this exact argument before and he still doesn’t care. 

“I don’t wanna hear it, Steven. And you’re one to talk about cheating, mister card counter. Do I need to remind you how many poker places we got banned from during our honeymoon?” 

Steve slumps down into his seat, and crosses his arms mulishly. “Card counting isn’t even cheating, it’s just math. We watched that documentary, remember?” 

Tony smiles to himself as he remembers the exact documentary that Steve’s referring to. Steve had been so excited to watch it, both because it was a movie from after he woke up from the ice _and_ because it referenced Tony’s alma mater, MIT. 

“I remember. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m not allowed inside of The Palazzo because of you. Also, what kind of coffee table do you want?” 

Steve sighs, obviously still convinced that he’s in the right but unwilling to continue the debate. “Anything with dark wood, it’ll match the couches better.” 

They pull into the parking lot of the furniture store and walk inside, waving off the customer service rep in favor of looking at the living room sets themselves. 

“How about this one?” Steve calls over to him, pointing out a small, round table that would fit perfectly in their living room, except for one _major_ problem. Tony raps his knuckles against the surface, and looks up at Steve, having confirmed what he’d thought. 

“It’s not real hardwood, it’s that plywood nonsense. It won’t stand up to _any_ wear and we’ll have to get rid of it in like, five years. Less if it ends up getting broken.”

Steve shakes his head at him, laughing. “You and your expensive tastes. Alright, we’ll go look for _real hardwood_ , since you’re so picky.” 

They keep looking, and eventually they find one that they both like: it’s twice as big as the first one they looked at, and ten times as expensive, but Tony’s in love. 

“Oh, honey look, the top comes off! It doubles as _storage_ , isn’t that amazing?” Tony waves over a store associate to discuss buying it, getting it delivered, and do they have other color options for the felt inside, yes burgundy would be _lovely_ , as Steve stands back and lets Tony work his magic. 

Once they’ve arranged for their new table to be delivered and put together next week, they head back to their car, with Tony more excited than Steve’s seen him in a while. 

“I just love that table so much, _God_ , I never knew I could feel this way about furniture. I sound like my mother.” 

“Someone’s been watching too much HGTV,” Steve teases, as they head to their next destination: Bed Bath and Beyond. Peter’s finally tying the knot with MJ, and their wedding registry is extensive. 

“Watch your tone, or I might run away with one of the Property Brothers. I heard Jonathan is still single.” 

***

“How about this one?” Tony points to the ugliest seder plate that Steve has ever seen in his life. 

“It looks like something Duchamp would make, absolutely not.” The plate in question isn’t really even a proper seder plate, it’s just six pieces of curved glass fused to a glass board, inlaid with a tacky pattern. 

“Oh my God, it comes in black, look!” Tony leads him to the same plate, but instead of looking like a tablecloth, it looks like tire tracks. 

“No, we _like_ Peter and MJ, remember? We’re angling for cool uncles and frequent babysitters status. We’re not giving them an ugly seder plate for their wedding.” 

After half an hour of looking at the (admittedly very limited) selection, Steve finds something that actually looks nice. It’s blue-toned silver and off-white, with a subtle scalloped pattern all over it, giving it a beachy feeling. The wedding’s taking place in New York, but both MJ and Peter love the ocean, so Steve thinks it’ll be perfect. 

“Tony, what do you think of this?” Steve calls out to his husband, who’s become distracted by the cookware sets. Tony turns at the sound of his name, still holding a red stainless steel pan.

“We need more pots.”

Steve considers their massive collection of pots and pans, and says very decisively, “No we do not.”

“But this one is by Rachael Ray! You love Rachael Ray!” 

Steve drags Tony over to the plate that he was looking at. “I _do_ love Rachael Ray, but we’re here for a reason. Also, we need to discuss your pot-hoarding habit. Anyways, what do you think of this plate for Peter and MJ?” 

Tony looks at the plate with awe, and Steve feels a smug pride inside of him. _He_ picked something that _Tony_ thinks is pretty. 

“Oh it’s gorgeous, we have to get it for them. And another one for us.”

Steve laughs at that, “Honey, what are we gonna use it for? None of us celebrate Passover!” 

Tony glares at him stubbornly, which is unfairly adorable. “Entertaining! We could use it for dips!” 

Steve pulls Tony close to him, hands on his waist. “Entertaining, huh? Who are we bringing over?” 

Tony sighs. “You’re right. It’s too pretty, I would just try to put it in the display cabinet, and that would mean I’d have to rearrange everything in there to make it fit.” 

They end up walking out of the store having gotten their friends a wedding present, and nothing that they didn’t need, and Steve considers it a massive success. 

As they get into the car, Steve’s stomach growls, and Tony looks at him curiously. 

“Time for lunch, big guy?” 

Steve flushes, embarrassed. “Yeah, I guess so. Anything you feel like? You know I’ll eat anything except--”

“--except very spicy or very sweet,” Tony finishes, and then thinks for a minute. “There’s always Leonardo’s for pizza if we can’t find anything, but we had that a few days ago.”  
  


Steve pulls out his phone to see what’s nearby. “Oh! There’s a diner a block away, we can just walk there!” 

They get back out of the car and walk down the street, as Steve intertwines his fingers with Tony’s and leads the way. 

***

“Did you _really_ order beef with a side of more beef?” Tony looks at Steve incredulously. Goddamn super-soldier protein demands, it’s a parody of itself sometimes. 

Steve beams at him, taking a long sip of his chocolate milkshake. “At least I’m eating actual food, what did you get again?”

Tony rolls his eyes at him and smiles. “I know you know what a frittata is, don’t play dumb.” He’s caught Steve watching those mind-numbing cooking show competitions too many times for him to believe that Steve doesn’t know. 

Their food arrives, and like any good married couple, they take a relatively private meal as time to gossip about everyone else in their lives. 

“I heard Bucky and Sam are getting a house together,” says Steve, showing Tony the listing on his phone. 

“Good for them, but why do they need three bedrooms? I thought they weren’t having kids?” 

Steve grins. “Apparently, they need _two separate home gyms_ , either because Bucky’s weights take up too much space, or because Sam’s gymnastics set does.”

Tony snorts. “Sounds like us with the bathroom counters.” 

Steve laughs out loud at that. “It wouldn’t _be_ us with the bathroom counters if you would stop slathering so much goo on your face.” 

“It’s not _goo_ , it’s Korean yeast, and it helps with my face’s microbiome.” 

“You put _baking ingredients_ on your face?” Steve looks mildly horrified, but Tony is just happy that he can still surprise his husband even after all these years. 

“I’ll explain it to you later. Tell me more about this house that tweedledee and tweedledum are getting.” 

They settle into comfortable back-and-forth chatter, the conversation flowing from topic to topic. Tony’s usually so conscious of the passing of time, especially with how many deadlines he has to keep track of, but a whole hour and a half elapses without him once thinking “we need to get going.” 

After their lunch break, they head back over to their car, and head to their last stop of the day, Tony’s personal tailor, to get their suits for the upcoming charity gala altered. 

***

Richard is a greying old man with a slight curve to his back, and he’s been working for the Starks since the 70s, with his father working for them since the 40s. Tony sees Richard’s son and granddaughter at the desk, and greets them like the close family friends they are, starting with the youngest member of the bunch. 

“Well hello there, little lady! It’s been a while, how’s fifth grade treating you?”

Emily gives him a put-upon sigh and eyeroll that only an eleven-year old girl is capable of. “I’m in _sixth grade_ now, I’m not _little_.” 

Tony grins, and reaches into his pants pocket to pull out a chocolate bar that he’d swiped from Clint’s stash of candy. “Oh really? Well, I guess that means you don’t like candy anymore, then?” 

Emily looks conflicted, torn between admitting that she is, in fact, little, and wanting to appear grown-up in front of adults. The bribe of candy wins, and she leaps at him, trying to get the chocolate. 

“I yield! I yield!” Tony says, before her elbow can catch him in the stomach. He relinquishes the candy bar, and Emily smirks at him like she’s won, because she has. 

“Emmie, what do we say?” says her father, Mike, clearly worn out from his daughter’s antics today. 

“Thank you, Mr. Tony!” Emily calls out as she runs into the backroom to enjoy her treat, not pausing for a second. 

Mike sighs. “One day I’ll get her to understand that you’re not just a magical candy dispenser, sorry about that.” 

Tony shakes his head. “It’s okay, it’s cute when she does it. We’re here for our 4 o’clock fitting.”

Richard comes out from the backroom, holding Steve and Tony’s suits. “I thought it was you, who else would be feeding my granddaughter sugar this late in the day?” 

“Richard! Good to see you again,” says Steve, standing up from the waiting room’s couch. “Are those ours?”

“Well, they’re not _mine_ , I don’t wear anything this gaudy.” Tony’s only very recently gained an appreciation for Richard’s dry sense of humor, but he’s decided that the man is the funniest person alive. 

“Come on Richard, you can’t tell me you didn’t have your wild outfits back in the day,” says Steve, teasingly, as he steps into a fitting room stall to try on the suit. “Even _I_ had my going-out clothes.” 

“Oh you had your fun outfits alright. Was it lycra or spandex that they had you dancing around in?” 

“Neither, it was rayon, I was sweating every single night.” Steve steps out of the fitting room and onto the small platform in front of the large mirrors to take a look at himself. Tony thinks that he looks downright _edible_ , the cut of the deep blue jacket making his shoulders look even broader, and the subtle pinstripe on the pants doing wonders for his legs. 

Richard, however, scoffs at Steve, saying, “Well, we’ll certainly need to hem everything, and add some darts so you don’t look like you’ve got a crate for a body.” 

The tailor works his magic, pinning and marking the material to subtly accentuate Steve’s best features. While Steve’s fitting is happening, Tony slips into his own suit, a wine-red number that a lovely designer from Armani had sent him. He thinks he looks decent, but a good tailoring will make him look stunning.

He steps out onto the platform, and Richard says the same thing to him -- that he needs everything hemmed and that his blazer makes him look like a Lego person. The fitting takes about fifteen minutes, with Steve eyeing him up the whole time. _What a deviant_ , Tony thinks, as he changes back into his normal clothes. 

They leave, waving the entire family goodbye, and promise to come back next week to pick up their finished suits. 

The second they’re back in the car, Steve pulls him into a heated kiss, taking him by surprise. 

“What was that for?” Tony asks, slightly dazed, as Steve pulls back. 

“You look too good in that suit. We need to get you something that makes you look less attractive, or I can’t be held responsible for what I do at that gala.” 

Tony rolls his eyes at his husband, “We’re married, Steve. I’m kind of a sure thing here, you don’t need to flatter me.” Steve _always_ does this whenever they go clothes shopping together, like Tony needs to be bribed into putting out

“It’s not flattery if it’s true,” Steve says with so much conviction that Tony has no choice but to believe him. His cheeks go a slight red before he regains his composure and laughs it off. 

“You’re such a charmer,” he drawls, trying for ‘dry and sarcastic’ but probably landing at ‘unbelievably earnest.’ As a last ditch effort to recover his dignity and cool factor, he says, “Come on Don Juan, let’s go make sure the kids didn’t burn the house down.” 

Steve looks like he wants to protest, but he doesn’t, and lets Tony take them home. 

***

When they walk back into the common floor, everything is suspiciously peaceful, which sets Steve on edge. There’s a sticky note on the fridge in Clint’s messy handwriting that says “out of the tower until 10, at Coney Island, have fun mom & dad xoxo,” which… is very considerate of them. He reminds himself to go easy on Clint the next time they spar. 

“Is anything on fire?” asks Tony, bringing in their one bag and setting it onto the kitchen island. 

“No, but the kids all went out to the amusement park without us.” He gives Tony a sly glance, hoping that the kiss in the car was enough of a hint. 

Tony, being a mind-reader, replies, “Did they now? Well, _Captain Rogers_ , it seems that the Tower’s undefended, _anyone_ could come in and steal me away,” in a sultry whisper. 

Steve gingerly places his fingertips on Tony’s waist, silently asking for permission. When Tony gives him a subtle nod, he lifts his husband into a bridal carry, and Tony’s arms wrap around his shoulders. 

“I guess I’ll have to protect you then, Mr. Stark.” Steve’s grinning despite himself. They’ve been married for _years,_ but he still loves this game of theirs, where Tony plays the coy damsel and lets Steve be the strapping hero. 

“I guess you will.” Tony gives Steve a kiss on the lips, encouraging him. 

Steve carries Tony into the elevator up to their bedroom, sets him down on their bed, and enthusiastically _protects_ him for two hours. 

***

Tony lies with his head on top of Steve’s chest, blinking slowly. _Perks of being married to a supersoldier: he always has more than one round in him. Cons of being married to a supersoldier: he always has more than one round in him._ He tries to get up, but Steve’s arm wraps around him, and his husband whines at him, wordlessly asking him to stay. It’s adorable, but Tony is _sticky_ and _damp_ and needs to shower. 

He says as much, but Steve’s brain must not be all the way functional yet, because he says, “Can I come with you?” 

Tony pokes Steve on the nose, which makes Steve’s face scrunch up. “No you cannot _come with me_ , I need to get clean.” He forcibly extracts himself from Steve’s grip, and looks back to see Steve pouting at him. He gives Steve a soft kiss, trying to reassure him. 

“I’ll be back in an hour, sweetheart, I promise.” 

“You better be,” Steve says mulishly, as he sinks underneath the covers, pulling the blanket up to his chin. 

Tony tries to make his shower as quick as possible, leaving in his conditioner for only ten minutes, and when he gets out, leaving in his hair mask for only fifteen. He tugs on his sleeping robe, made of soft, thin red silk, and goes to rejoin his husband. 

When he gets back to bed, Steve looks so damn cozy and comfortable, he wants to take a picture. Tony crawls under the covers and wraps his arms around his husband, kissing the back of his neck. Steve stirs slightly, and turns around to face him, looking very, very content. 

“Good errand day?” Tony whispers to Steve. 

“The best,” Steve confirms, and holds Tony close as they drift off to sleep together. 

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly... was not expecting to make a fill for this but I saw the art and it made me break out the keyboard. 
> 
> I'm on Tumblr as [@theotherwasdeath](http://theotherwasdeath.tumblr.com)! Come say hi :D
> 
> Comments and kudos always appreciated <3


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